{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/eng/child/ch191.htm","path":"neu/eng/child/ch191.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch191.htm","text":"191A.1 AS it befell upon one time,\nAbout mid-summer of the year,\nEvery man was taxt of his crime,\nFor stealing the good Lord Bishop\u2019s mare.\n191A.2 The good Lord Screw he sadled a horse,\nAnd rid after this same scrime;\nBefore he did get over the moss,\nThere was he aware of Sir Hugh of the Grime.\n191A.3 \u2018Turn, O turn, thou false traytor,\nTurn, and yield thyself unto me;\nThou hast stolen the Lord Bishops mare,\nAnd now thou thinkest away to flee.\u2019\n191A.4 \u2018No, soft, Lord Screw, that may not be!\nHere is a broad sword by my side,\nAnd if that thou canst conquer me,\nThe victory will soon be try\u2019d.\u2019\n191A.5 \u2018I ner was afraid of a traytor bold,\nAlthough thy name be Hugh in the Grime;\nI\u2019le make thee repent thy speeches foul,\nIf day and life but give me time.\u2019\n191A.6 \u2018Then do thy worst, good Lord Screw,\nAnd deal your blows as fast as you can;\nIt will be try\u2019d between me and you\nWhich of us two shall be the best man.\u2019\n191A.7 Thus as they dealt their blows so free,\nAnd both so bloody at that time,\nOver the moss ten yeomen they see,\nCome for to take Sir Hugh in the Grime.\n191A.8 Sir Hugh set his back against a tree,\nAnd then the men encompast him round;\nHis mickle sword from his hand did flee,\nAnd then they brought Sir Hugh to the ground.\n191A.9 Sir Hugh of the Grime now taken is\nAnd brought back to Garlard town;\n[Then cry\u2019d] the good wives all in Garlard town,\n\u2018Sir Hugh in the Grime, thou \u2019st ner gang down.\u2019\n191A.10 The good Lord Bishop is come to the town,\nAnd on the bench is set so high;\nAnd every man was taxt to his crime,\nAt length he called Sir Hugh in the Grime.\n191A.11 \u2018Here am I, thou false bishop,\nThy humours all to fulfill;\nI do not think my fact so great\nBut thou mayst put it into thy own will.\u2019\n191A.12 The quest of jury-men was calld,\nThe best that was in Garlard town;\nEleven of them spoke all in a breast,\n\u2018Sir Hugh in the Grime, thou \u2019st ner gang down.\u2019\n191A.13 Then another questry-men was calld,\nThe best that was in Rumary;\nTwelve of them spoke all in a breast,\n\u2018Sir Hugh in the Grime, thou\u2019st now guilty.\u2019\n191A.14 Then came down my good Lord Boles,\nFalling down upon his knee:\n\u2018Five hundred peices of gold would I give,\nTo grant Sir Hugh in the Grime to me.\u2019\n191A.15 \u2018Peace, peace, my good Lord Boles,\nAnd of your speeches set them by!\nIf there be eleven Grimes all of a name,\nThen by my own honour they all should dye.\u2019\n191A.16 Then came down my good Lady Ward,\nFalling low upon her knee:\n\u2018Five hundred measures of gold I\u2019le give,\nTo grant Sir Hugh of the Grime to em.\u2019\n191A.17 \u2018Peace, peace, my good Lady Ward,\nNone of your proffers shall him buy!\nFor if there be twelve Grimes all of a name,\nBy my own honour they all should dye.\u2019\n191A.18 Sir Hugh of the Grime\u2019s condemnd to dye,\nAnd of his friends he had no lack;\nFourteen foot he leapt in his ward,\nHis hands bound fast upon his back.\n191A.19 Then he lookt over his left shoulder,\nTo see whom he could see or spy;\nThen was he aware of his father dear,\nCame tearing his hair most pittifully.\n191A.20 \u2018Peace, peace, my father dear,\nAnd of your speeches set them by!\nThough they have bereavd me of my life,\nThey cannot bereave me of heaven so high.\u2019\n191A.21 He lookt over his right shoulder,\nTo see whom he could see or spye;\nThere was he aware of his mother dear,\nCame tearing her hair most pittifully.\n191A.22 \u2018Pray have me remembred to Peggy, my wife;\nAs she and I walkt over the moor,\nShe was the cause of [the loss of] my life,\nAnd with the old bishop she plaid the whore.\n191A.23 \u2018Here, Johnny Armstrong, take thou my sword,\nThat is made of the mettle so fine,\nAnd when thou comst to the border-side,\nRemember the death of Sir Hugh of the Grime.\u2019\n191B: Hughie Graham\n191B.1 OUR lords are to the mountains gane,\nA hunting o the fallow deer,\nAnd they hae gripet Hughie Graham,\nFor stealing o the bishop\u2019s mare.\n191B.2 And they hae tied him hand and foot,\nAnd led him up thro Stirling town;\nThe lads and lasses met him there,\nCried, Hughie Graham, thou art a loun!\n191B.3 \u2018O lowse my right hand free,\u2019 he says,\n\u2018And put my braid sword in the same,\nHe\u2019s no in Stirling town this day\nDaur tell the tale to Hughie Graham.\u2019\n191B.4 Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord,\nAs he sat by the bishop\u2019s knee:\n\u2018Five hundred white stots I\u2019ll gie you,\nIf ye\u2019ll let Hughie Graham gae free.\u2019\n191B.5 \u2018O haud your tongue,\u2019 the bishop says,\n\u2018And wi your pleading let me be!\nFor tho ten Grahams were in his coat,\nHighie Graham this day shall die.\u2019\n191B.6 Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord,\nAs she sat by the bishop\u2019s knee:\n\u2018Five hundred white pence I\u2019ll gee you,\nIf ye\u2019ll gie Hughie Graham to me.\u2019\n191B.7 \u2018O haud your tongue now, lady fair,\nAnd wi your pleading let it be!\nAltho ten Grahams were in his coat,\nIt\u2019s for my honour he maun die.\u2019\n191B.8 They\u2019ve taen him to the gallows-knowe,\nHe looked to the gallows-tree,\nYet never colour left his cheek,\nNor ever did he blink his ee.\n191B.9 At length he looked round about,\nTo see whatever he could spy,\nAnd there he saw his auld father,\nAnd he was weeping bitterly.\n191B.10 \u2018O haud your tongue, my father dear,\nAnd wi your weeping let it be!\nThy weeping\u2019s sairer on my heart\nThan a\u2019 that they can do to me.\n191B.11 \u2018And ye may gie my brother John\nMy sword that\u2019s bent in the middle clear,\nAnd let him come at twelve o\u2019clock,\nAnd see me pay the bishop\u2019s mare.\n191B.12 \u2018And ye may gie my brother James\nMy sword that\u2019s bent in the middle brown,\nAnd bid him come at four o\u2019clock,\nAnd see his brother High cut down.\n191B.13 \u2018Remember me to Maggy my wife,\nThe niest time ye gang oer the moor;\nTell her, she staw the bishop\u2019s mare,\nTell her, she was the bishop\u2019s whore.\n191B.14 \u2018And ye may tell my kith and kin\nI never did disgrace their blood,\nAnd when they meet the bishop\u2019s cloak,\nTo mak it shorter by the hood.\u2019\n191C: Hughie Graham\n191C.1 GUDE Lord Scroope\u2019s to the hunting gane,\nHe has ridden oer moss and muir,\nAnd he has grippet Hughie the Gra+eme,\nFor stealing o the bishop\u2019s mare.\n191C.2 \u2018Now, good Lord Scroope, this may not be!\nHere hangs a broad sword by my side,\nAnd if that thou canst conquer me,\nThe matter it may soon be tryed.\u2019\n191C.3 \u2018I neer was afraid of a traitor thief;\nAlthough thy name be Hughie the Gra+eme,\nI\u2019ll make thee repent thee of thy deeds,\nIf God but grant me life and time.\u2019\n191C.4 \u2018Then do your worst now, goo Lord Scroope,\nAnd deal your blows as hard as you can;\nIt shall be tried, within an hour,\nWhich of us two is the better man.\u2019\n191C.5 But as they were dealing their blows so free,\nAnd both so bloody ay the time,\nOver the moss came ten yeomen so tall,\nAll for to take brave Hughie the Gra+eme.\n191C.6 Then they hae grippit Hughie the Gra+eme,\nAnd brought him up through Carlisle town;\nThe lasses and lads stood on the walls,\nCrying, Hughie the Gra+eme, thou\u2019se neer gae down!\n191C.7 Then they hae chosen a jury of men,\nThe best that were in Carlisle town,\nAnd twelve of them cried out at once,\nHughie the Gra+eme, thou must gae down!\n191C.8 Then up bespak him gude Lord Hume,\nAs he sat by the judge\u2019s knee:\n\u2018Twenty white owsen, my gude lord,\nIf you\u2019ll grant Hughie the Gra+eme to me.\u2019\n191C.9 \u2018O no, O no, my gude Lord Hume,\nForsooth and sae it mauna be;\nFor were there but three Gra+emes of the name,\nThey suld be hanged a\u2019 for me.\u2019\n191C.10 RR\u2019rrtwas up and spake the gude Lady Hume,\nAs she sat by the judge\u2019s knee:\n\u2018A peck of white pennies, my good lord judge,\nIf you\u2019ll grant Hughie the Gra+eme to me.\u2019\n191C.11 \u2018O no, O no, my gude Lady Hume,\nForsooth and so ti mustna be;\nWere he but the one Gra+eme of the name,\nHe suld be hanged high for me.\u2019\n191C.12 \u2018If I be guilty,\u2019 said Hughie the Gra+eme,\n\u2018Of me my friends shall hae small talk;\u2019\nAnd he has loupd fifteen feet and three,\nThough his hands they were tied behind his back.\n191C.13 He looked over his left shoulder,\nAnd for to see what he might see;\nThere was he aware of his auld father,\nCame tearing his hair most piteouslie.\n191C.14 \u2018O hald your tongue, my father,\u2019 he says,\n\u2018And see that ye dinna weep for me!\nFor they may ravish me of my life,\nBut they canna banish me fro heaven hie.\n191C.15 \u2018Fare ye weel, fair Maggie, my wife!\nThe last time we came ower the muir\n\u2019Twas thou bereft me of my life,\nAnd wi the bishop thou playd the whore.\n191C.16 \u2018Here, Johnnie Armstrang, take thou my sword,\nThat is made o the metal sae fine,\nAnd when thou comest to the English side\nRemember the death of Hughie the Gra+eme.\u2019\n191D: Hughie Graham\n191D.1 GOOD Lord John is a hunting gone,\nOver the hills and dales so far,\nFor to take Sir Hugh in the Grime,\nFor stealing of the bishop\u2019s mare.\nHe derry derry down\n191D.2 Hugh in the Grime was taken then\nAnd carried to Carlisle town;\nThe merry women came out amain,\nSaying, The name of Grime shall never go down!\n191D.3 O then a jury of women was brought,\nOf the best that could be found;\nEleven of them spoke all at once,\nSaying, The name of Grime shall never go down!\n191D.4 And then a jury of men was brought,\nMore the pity for to be!\nEleven of them spoke all at once,\nSaying, Hugh in the Grime, you are guilty.\n191D.5 Hugh in the Grime was cast to be hangd,\nMany of his friends did for him lack;\nFor fifteen foot in the prisin he did jump,\nWith his hands tyed fast behind his back.\n191D.6 Then bespoke our good Lady Ward,\nAs she set on the bench so high:\n\u2018A peck of white pennys I\u2019ll give to my lord,\nIf he\u2019ll grant Hugh Grime to me.\n191D.7 \u2018And if it be not full enough,\nI\u2019ll stroke it up with my silver fan;\nAnd if it be not full enough,\nI\u2019ll heap it up with my own hand.\u2019\n191D.8 \u2018Hold your tongue now, Lady Ward,\nAnd of your talkitive let it be!\nThere is never a Grime came in this court\nThat at thy bidding shall saved be.\u2019\n191D.9 Then bespoke our good Lady Moor,\nAs she sat on the bench so high:\n\u2018A yoke of fat oxen I\u2019ll give to my lord,\nIf he\u2019ll grant Hugh Grime to me.\u2019\n191D.10 \u2018Hold your tongue now, good Lady Moor,\nAnd of your talkitive let it be!\nThere is never a Grime came to this court\nThat at thy bidding shall saved be.\u2019\n191D.11 Sir Hugh in the Grime lookd out of the door,\nWith his hand out of the bar;\nThere he spy\u2019d his father dear,\nTearing of his golden hair.\n191D.12 \u2018Hold your tongue, good father dear,\nAnd of your weeping let it be!\nFor if they bereave me of my life,\nThey cannot bereave me of the heavens so high.\u2019\n191D.13 Sir Hugh in the Grime lookd out at the door,\nOh, what a sorry heart had he!\nThere [he] spy\u2019d his mother dear,\nWeeping and wailing \u2018Oh, woe is me!\u2019\n191D.14 Hold your tongue now, mother dear,\nAnd of your weeping let it be!\nFor if they bereave me of my life,\nThey cannot bereave me of heaven\u2019s fee.\n191D.15 \u2018I\u2019ll leave my sword to Johnny Armstrong\nThat is made of mettal so fine,\nThat when he comes to the border-side\nHe may think of Hugh in the Grime.\u2019\n191E: Hughie Graham\n191E.1 LORD HOME he is a hunting gane,\nThrough the woods and valleys clear,\nAnd he has taen Sir Hugh the Gra+eme,\nFor stealing o the bishop\u2019s mare.\n191E.2 They hae taen Sir Hugh the Gra+eme,\nLed him down thro Strieveling town;\nFifeteen o them cried a\u2019 at ance,\n\u2018Sir Hugh the Gra+eme he must go down!\u2019\n191E.3 They hae causd a court to sit,\nMang a\u2019 their best nobilitie;\nFifeteen o them cried a\u2019 at ance,\nSir Hugh the Gra+eme he now must die!\u2019\n191E.4 Out is speaks the lady Black,\nAnd o her will she was right free:\n\u2018A thousand pounds, my lord, I\u2019ll gie,\nIf Hugh the Gra+eme set free to me.\u2019\n191E.5 \u2018Hold your tongue, ye Lady Black,\nAnd ye\u2019ll let a\u2019 your pleadings be!\nThough ye woud gie me thousands ten,\nIt\u2019s for my honour he must die.\u2019\n191E.6 Then out it speaks her Lady Bruce,\nAnd o her will she was right free:\n\u2018A hundred steeds, my lord, I\u2019ll gie,\nIf ye\u2019ll gie Hugh the Gra+eme to me.\u2019\n191E.7 \u2018O hold your tongue, ye Lady Bruce,\nAnd ye\u2019ll let a\u2019 your pleadings be!\nThough a\u2019 the Gra+emes were in this court,\nIt\u2019s for my honour he must die.\u2019\n191E.8 He looked over his shoulder,\nIt was to see what he coud see,\nAnd there he saw his auld father,\nWeeping and wailing bitterlie.\n191E.9 \u2018O hold your tongue, my old father,\nAnd ye\u2019ll let a\u2019 your mourning be!\nThough they bereave me o my life,\nThey canno had the heavens frae me.\n191E.10 \u2018Ye\u2019ll gie my brother John the sword\nThat\u2019s pointed wi the metal clear,\nAnd bid him come at eight o\u2019clock,\nAnd see me pay the bishop\u2019s mare.\n191E.11 \u2018And, brother James, take here the sword\nThat\u2019s pointed wi the metal brown;\nCome up the morn at eight o\u2019clock,\nAnd see your brother putten down.\n191E.12 \u2018And, brother Allan, take this sword\nThat\u2019s pointed wi the metal fine;\nCome up the morn at eight o\u2019clock,\nAnd see the death o Hugh the Gra+eme.\n191E.13 \u2018Ye\u2019ll tell this news to Maggy my wife,\nNiest time ye gang to Strievling town,\nShe is the cause I lose my life,\nShe wi the bishop playd the loon.\u2019\n191E.14 Again he ower his shoulder lookd,\nIt was to see what he could see,\nAnd there he saw his little son,\nWas screaming by his nourice knee.\n191E.15 Then out it spake the little son,\n\u2018Since \u2019tis the morn that he must die,\nIf that I live to be a man,\nMy father\u2019s death revengd shall be.\u2019\n191E.16 \u2018If I must die,\u2019 Sir Hugh replied,\n\u2018My friends o me they will think lack;\u2019\nHe leapd a wa eighteen feet high,\nWi his hands bound behind his back.\n191E.17 Lord Home then raised ten armed men,\nAnd after him they did pursue;\nBut he has trudged ower the plain\nAs fast as ony bird that flew.\n191E.18 He looked ower his left shoulder,\nIt was to see what he coud see;\nHis brother John was at his back,\nAnd a\u2019 thee rest o his brothers three.\n191E.19 Some they wound, and some they slew,\nThey fought sae fierce and valiantly;\nThey made his enemies for to yield,\nAnd sent Sir Hugh out ower the sea.\n191F: Hughie Graham\n191F.1 \u2018YE may tell to my wife Maggie,\nWhen that she comes to the fair,\nShe was the cause of all my ruin,\nIt was her that stole the bishop\u2019s mare.\n191F.2 \u2018Ye may tell to my wife Maggie,\nWhen that she comes to the town,\nShe was the cause of all my ruin,\nIt was her that stole the bishop\u2019s gown.\u2019\n191G: Hughie Graham\n191G.1 DUKES an lords a huntin gane,\nOver hills an vallies clear;\nThere the\u2019ve bound him Hughie Grame,\nFor stealin o the bishop\u2019s mare.\n191[H]: Hughie Graham\n191[H].1 Lairds and lords a hounting gane,\nOut-over hills and valleys clear,\nAnd there they met Hughie Grame,\nWas riding on the bishop\u2019s mare.\n191[H.2] And they have tied him hand and foot,\nAnd they have carried him to Stirling town;\nThe lads and lasses there about\nCrys, Hughie Grame, you are a lown!\n191[H.3] \u2018If I be a lown,\u2019 says he,\n\u2018I am sure my friends has had bad luck;\u2019\nWe that he jumpted fifteen foot,\nWith his hands tied behind his back.\n191[H.4] Out and spoke Laidy Whiteford,\nAs she sat by the bishop\u2019s knee;\n\u2018Four-and-twenty milk-kie I\u2019ll give to thee,\nIf Hughie Grame you will let free.\u2019\n191[H.5] \u2018Hold your tongue, my laidy Whiteford,\nAnd of your pleading now lay by;\nIf fifty Grames were in his coat,\nUpon my honour he shall die.\u2019\n191[H.6] Out and spoke Lord Whiteford,\nAs he sat by the bishop\u2019s knee;\n\u2018Four-and-twenty stots I\u2019ll give thee,\nIf Hughie Grame you will let free.\u2019\n191[H.7] \u2018Hold your tongue, my lord Whiteford,\nAnd of your pleading now lay by;\nIf twenty Grames were in his coat,\nUpon my honour he shall die.\u2019\n191[H.8] \u2018You may tell to Meg, my wife,\nThe first time she comes through the mu[ir],\nShe was the causer of my death,\nFor with the bishop [she] plaid the whore.\n191[H.9] \u2018You may tell to Meg, my wife,\nThe first time she comes through the town,\nShe was the causer of my death,\nFor with the bishop [she ] plaid the lown.\u2019\n191[H.10] He looked oer his left shoulder,\nTo see what he could spy or see,\nAnd there he spied his old father,\nWas weeping bitterly.\n191[H.11] \u2018Hold your tongue, my dear father,\nAnd of your weeping now lay by;\nThey may rub me of my sweet life,\nBut not from me the heavence high.\n191[H.12] \u2018You may give my brother John\nThe sword that\u2019s of the mettle clear,\nThat he may come the morn at four o clock\nTo see me pay the bishop\u2019s mare.\n191[H.13] \u2018You may give my brother James\nThe sword that\u2019s of the mettle brown;\nTell him to come the morn at four o clock\nTo see his brother Hugh cut down.\u2019\n191[H.14] Up and spoke his oldest son,\nAs he sat by his nurse\u2019s knee;\n\u2018If ere I come to be a man,\nRevenged for my father[\u2019s] death I\u2019ll be.\u2019\n191[I]: Hughie Graham\n191[I].1 Ye dukes and lords that hunt and go\nOut-over moors and mountains clear,\nAnd they have taen up poor Hughie Gra+eme,\nFor stealing of the bishope\u2019s mare.\n110[I.1b] Fall all the day, fall all the daudy,\nFall all the day, fall the daudy O.\n191[I.2] They hae tied him hand and foot,\nThey hae led him thro the town;\nThe lads and lassies they all met,\nCried, Hughie Gra+eme, ye\u2019ve playd the loon!\n191[I.3] \u2018O if that I had playd the loon,\nMy friends of me they hae bad luck;\u2019\nWith that he jumped fifteen feet,\nWi his hands tied fast behind his back.\n191[I.4] Up then spoke my lady Whiteford,\nAs she sat by the bishope\u2019s knee;\n\u2018Five hundred white pence I\u2019ll give thee,\nIf you let Hughie Gra+eme go free.\u2019\n191[I.5] \u2018I\u2019ll hae nane of your hundred pense,\nAnd your presents you may lay by;\nFor if Gra+eme was ten times in his coat,\nBy my honour, Hugh shall die.\u2019\n191[I.6] Up then spoke my lord Whiteford,\nAs he sat by the bishope\u2019s knee;\n\u2018Five score of good stotts I\u2019ll thee give,\nIf you\u2019ll sett Hughie Gra+eme but free.\u2019\n191[I.7] \u2018I\u2019ll have none of your hundred stotts,\nAnd all your presents you may keep to yoursell;\n\u2018For if Gra+eme was ten times in his coat\nHugh shall die, and die he shall.\u2019\n191[I.8] Then they hae tied him hand and foot,\nAnd they hae led [him] to the gallows high;\nThe lads and lassies they all met,\nCried, Hughie Gra+eme, thou art to die!\n191[I.9] Now\u2019s he looked oer his left shoulder,\nAll for to see what he could spy,\nAnd there he saw his father dear,\nStood weeping there most bitterlie.\n191[I.10] \u2018O hold your tongue now, father,\u2019 he said,\n\u2018And of your weeping lai\u2019d now by;\nFor they can rob me of my life,\nBut they cannot rob me of the heavens high.\n191[I.11] \u2018But you must give to my brother John\nThe sword that\u2019s bent in the middle clear,\nAnd tell him to come at twelve o clock\nAnd see me pay the bishope\u2019s mare.\n191[I.12] \u2018And you may give to my brother James\nThe sword that\u2019s bent in the middle brown,\nAnd tell him to come at four o clock\nAnd see his brother Hugh cut down.\n191[I.13] \u2018And you may tell to Meg, my wife,\nThe first time she comes thro the town,\nShe was the occasion of my death\nAnd wi the bishope playd the loon.\n191[I.14] \u2018And you may tell to Meg, my wife,\nThe first time she comes thro the fair,\nShe was the occasion of my death,\nAnd from the bishope stole the mare.\u2019","title":"The Child Ballads: 191. Hughie Graham","type":"page"}